Poser
by comet80
Summary: Maybe she was always like this? She couldn't remember when she started. One moment she was five years old at the play ground with her older brother Kenny, and the next she has to please him. Always. It's a little oneshot about Kenny's sister.


_**Poser:** noun 1. a person who habitually pretends to be something he is not. _

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I don't really know when it began. It's possibly I've always been that way, or maybe it's my brothers fault. Maybe it started back in kindergarten when I found out that most my classmates could actually afford a decent pair of girl shoes, and I never could.

My family is dirt poor, and it consists of me, and my two older brothers. One, I know is related to me by blood, and the other, I have no clue. My parent's have a diet consisting of smoking,drinking,and waffles, and if you're not any of that, then well, you'd complain too. And because of that, my brothers and I never stay at home.

That's how I learned my ways—My brother Kenny actually taught them to me. He's the one I'm sure is blood related to me. He's sweet, sorta; he's got good manner's,sorta; he's nice,slightly; and he teachers me everything. Always.

When I was nine he taught me _his_ ways. If you've never met my brother, then I'm sure you'd consider him a sweet poor boy trying to get by in life. He's the opposite. He told me he was a man whore, and got paid a lot for his job. He even taught me some pick up tricks. He told me if you look all innocent, then the guy's would think you're innocent, and ask you out.

I tried out the method on Monday at school, and it worked. Well. I was getting guys left and right.

When I turned ten, Kenny gave me my first tight skirt, and some leggings. He taught me how to dance in heels and about sex. Then he taught me to please better.

At age eleven I noticed how wrong this felt. I never wanted to upset Kenny about this, but it was wrong. Messing with people's emotions just to get money. I told him once, and he just told me the guilt would wear off.

On the first day of middle school, Kenny bought me this ugly, expensive, pink top. I was never the one for pink; it never suited me. Kenny persuaded me to wear the top to school, and when I arrived, heads turned. They all knew who I was, and what I did. Most of them knew I was a slut, and they all knew I didn't like my position. The clothes threw them farther ahead then I ever wanted to go.

The gossip started in math, and I caught a glimpse. I told them that I never wanted to be like that, and that it was just an act to please my older brother. The class booed and hissed, and cussed me out, but the girl with the dark hair in the corner didn't. She looked at me and she understood with out saying words to me.

I remembered Kenny telling me about her. She was his age, which was surprising since she was in my middle school math class. She was a goth, and he told me not to talk to them and that they never cared about the poor asses on the other side of town. That they were the kids who had everything, but just like to complain.

I don't know why, but at the moment I felt a desiring need to become "goth." When the teacher stepped out, I grabbed my books and went to the back of the classroom next to the girl. I gave her a weak smile, but she just frowned. "One will do not what they want, but what they must."

I traced the words mentally in my mind. "What does that mean?"

She shrugged, even thought I knew she knew the answer. "When you know, then maybe you'll understand."

I was about to ask what that meant, but I already knew how she would reply, so I took a different approach. "Hi I'm-"

She finished for me, as her black painted lips spit out the words I wasn't going to say. "Kathleen, Kathleen McCormick. I know who you are; you're the sister of the boy that used to die, and he's friends with Stan Marsh. He hung out with us in fourth grade."

I bit my lower lip. "Actually, it's Kati. No one calls me Kathleen; no one does."

"Henrietta. No more, no less."

The bell rang before I knew it. I didn't know much of anyone else in the school, so I followed Henrietta around. She looked irritated about it, but didn't seem to mind at the same time. She was walking towards the school exit to skip class, and I've never done that.

"Where are you going?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Outside."

"But you'll miss you're next class-"

She cut me off again. "The next class is for the conformists. I'm going to go outback, you coming?"

I looked both ways and thought about it. Hell yeah. No way was I going to give out on a chance with the only possible friend I had. I followed her to the backside of the school. Before my introduction, I was rudely interrupted.

"Etta, what's with the conformist?" The guy with the black and red hair asked her. She just shrugged and replied "She's the lost soul in the field of wannabes. Kathleen, guys; guys, Kathleen."

This time I didn't even mention how everyone calls me Kati. I was offered a cigarette and took one, letting the smoke intoxicate my lungs, pressing my back into the wall We sat in the peaceful silence listening to the drowning noise of music, while choking in the black smoked air, every once in a while hearing the noise of a car, or one of us reading excerpts of our favorite poems.

I spent a majority of my middle school with the goths. Kenny knew, but he never did anything about it. We skipped a lot, and spent the nice days outside doing exactly what I did on my first. On my last day there, Henrietta stopped me. "You're time is over. You're done doing what you want, this isn't what you must."

I never had to ask her what that meant. I learned that there are some things you never ask. The next year I entered high school, and I went back to my old ways. I went back to being fake and pleasing Kenny. I was popular,but fake and now knew what she meant. "You don't do what you want, you do what you have to do."

**End.**


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